LD 


UC-NRLF 


SB    7M 


IG 


CO 

LO 


o 


GIFT  OF 


ror.    Emanuel  Fritz 


THE  LIFE  AND  SERVICES 


OF 


EZRA  CORNELL 


BY 


FRANCIS  M.   FINCH 


THE  LIFE  AND  SERVICES" 


EZRA  CORNELL 


AN  ADDRESS  DELIVERED  AT  CORNEUv  UNIVERSITY   ON  FOUNDER'S 
DAY  (JANUARY  IITH,  1887) 


FRANCIS    M.    FINCH 


Judge  of  the  Court  of  Appeals  of  the  State  of  New  York 


PUHLI3HED    BY    THE    UNIVERSITY 


4" 


Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 

I  have  come  among  you  to-day  from  a  sense  of 
duty  which  I  found  it  impossible  to  resist.  Since  it  was 
my  fortune  to  be  one  of  those  who  watched  at  the  cradle 
of  the  University, — sometimes  when  the  nights  were 
dark,  and  enemies  gathered  and  danger  approached  in 
the  shadows, — and  to  stand  by  the  side  of  the  Founder, 
giving  such  help  as  occasion  permitted  or  anxiety 
prompted,  it  seems  appropriate  that  those  memories 
of  his  life  which  I  may  have  unconsciously  stored  away, 
whether  familiar  to  the  many  or  known  only  to  the  few, 
should  have  the  repetition  of  this  memorial  occasion, 
or  the  preservation  of  such  record  as  it  is  yet  possible 
to  make. 

At  that  commemoration  which,  in  the  beginning 
of  the  last  November,  gathered  about  Cambridge  lov- 
ing sons  and  admiring  friends  to  look  back  upon  two 
hundred  and  fifty  years  of  educational  life,  the  thought- 
ful and  polished  orator  of  the  festival  could  do  no  more 
for  the  memory  of  John  Harvard  than  to  speak  of  him 
in  a  passing  sentence  as  "  the  gentle  and  godly  youth 
from  whom  we  took  our  name, — himself  scarce  more 
than  a  name".  For  us,  there  is  not  yet  the  excuse  of 
long  and  blinding  years,  and  a  memory  faded  till  its  col- 
ors are  lost  in  the  gray  of  a  mist;  and  something  more 
than  a  name  was  our  dead  Founder's  gift.  Surely,  be- 
fore the  added  years  build  other  barriers  between  us 
and  him,  the  solid  strength  and  merit  of  his  life  should 
be  remembered  and  recalled:  and  to  that  purpose  and 
that  alone  I  devote  the  moments  allotted  me  to-day. 


However  vain  the  wish,one  cannot  repress  a  long- 
ing that  events  might  have  been  so  ordained  as  to  have 
given  to  his  open  and  observant  eyes  a  view  of  what 
has  already  been  accomplished  in  the  upbuilding  of  this 
University  whose  completion  and  success  became  the 
dominant  purpose  of  his  life.  Doubtless,  some  such  wish 
was  often  his.  Once  at  least  I  traced  its  presence  in  an 
expression  of  momentary  regret.  I  remember  riding 
with  him  over  these  hills  when  but  a  single  building 
was  slowly  rising,  and  our  way  led  through  tangled 
grass,  over  uneven  ground,  amid  the  stone  and  timbers 
of  construction,  and  when,  after  some  moments  of  si- 
lence, with  a  patient  and  far-off  look  in  his  eyes,  he  said 
that  I  was  more  fortunate  than  he,  since  I  might  reason- 
ably expect  to  see  how  the  scene  would  look  after  the 
changes  of  twenty-five  years,  while  for  him  there  was 
no  such  hope.  Less  than  that  quarter-century  has  gone 
and  I  can  see  the  change  ;  but  I  am  sure  that  he  saw  it 
then.  In  that  moment  of  thoughtful  silence  every 
building  took  its  appointed  place,  and  he  counted  them 
already  by  the  score,  and  voices  and  footsteps  broke 
the  stillness  of  the  fields.  One  may  even  imagine  that 
in  that  vision  of  the  future  he  saw  the  white  helmets 
aligned  for  the  drill  of  the  afternoon,  and  heard  the 
sound  of  bells  as  yet  uncast  from  a  tower  not  even 
planned.  For  more  than  any  man  I  knew  he  took  the 
future  into  his  confidence  and  thought,  and  studied  its 
far  perspective  while  tracing  the  foreground  of  his 
immediate  work.  One  can  almost  see  the  hope  and  the 
purpose  shining  out  of  his  young  eyes  as  he  stood  upon 
this  very  hill,  after  a  long  day's  walk  from  the  parental 
roof,  and  looked  down  upon  the  village  that  was  to  be 
his  future  home.  One  can  see  it  again  in  his  weary 
journeys  through  the  South,  and  patient  efforts  among 
the  farms  of  Maine.  But  it  developed  most  rapidly 
when  he  became  one  of  the  pioneers  in  telegraph  con- 
struction and  staked  his  fortunes  upon  the  result. 


I  have  heard  him  tell  the  story ;  modestly,  but 
with  some  pride  in  the  triumph  of  his  judgment,  and 
when  he  thought  the  listeners  needed  the  stimulus  of 
the  lesson :  how  capital  shrank  from  the  enterprise  and 
cautiously  refused  its  aid ;  how  mistakes  and  imperfec- 
tions discouraged  those  who  believed ;  how  the  heavy 
pressure  of  debt  brought  with  it  the  destructive  energy 
of  the  law :  how  learned  scientists  warned  off  his  wires 
from  the  house-tops  as  bringing  danger  of  fire  ;  how  he 
slept  on  the  floor  by  his  batteries  and  lived  upon  a 
crust ;  how  sickness  came  to  the  help  of  disaster,  when 
health  and  strength  were  supremely  needed ;  but  how 
all  the  time  he  felt  sure  that  the  energy  of  the  lightning 
would  be  tamed  to  steady  and  useful  work,  and  the 
world  have  need  of  its  marvellous  power;  and  so  per- 
sisted, through  doubt  and  despair  darkening  all  about 
him,  until  the  results  unfolded  in  success  and  brought 
him  a  fortune  beyond  his  hopes  and  needs. 

What  he  had  done  with  the  telegraph  in  hi-s  vig- 
orous youth  he  thought  could  be  repeated  with  rail- 
ways in  his  ripening  age.  Two  such  enterprises,  neces- 
sary as  he  believed  for  easy  and  convenient  access  to 
the  University  he  had  founded,  were  struggling  for 
lack  of  means,  and  in  danger  of  failure  and  complete 
dissolution.  With  his  old-time  courage  and  faith  in  the 
future,  he  took  their  burdens  upon  his  shoulders,  and 
put  in  peril  the  fortune  he  had  so  hardly  won.  When 
some  of  us  were  frightened  and  ventured  to  remonstrate, 
with  unmoved  serenity  and  amused  wonder  at  our  ti- 
midity and  want  of  foresight,  he  answered  with  confi- 
dent predictions,  reasoning  difficult  to  be  resisted,  and 
a  faith  that  would  have  moved  mountains.  The  roads 
were  built.  The  bulk  of  his  fortune  was  buried  in  the 
earth  with  their  ties  and  spiked  to  the  roadway  with 
their  rails.  If  I  greeted  one  of  them  with  a  solid  and 
resolute  hatred  whose  embers  are  yet,  perhaps,  a  little 


warm  in  the  ashes,  because  it  invaded  the  college 
grounds,  shredding  their  peace  with  its  screaming  whis- 
tles, breaking  every  promise  of  neatness  and  adorn- 
ment, and  threatening  the  native  forest  that  none  but 
a  Vandal  would  disturb;  because  I  saw  how  its  multitu- 
dinous wants,  like  the  arms  of  a  devil-fish,  were  fasten- 
ing upon  every  square  inch  of  the  Founder's  confidence 
and  trust;  because  I  feared  the  coming  of  the  wreckers 
with  their  syndicates  and  foreclosures  and  battered  life- 
boats presaging  disaster;  at  least  I  was  not  blind  to  the 
patient  courage  with  which  he  faced  the  danger,  or  the 
marvellous  faith  that  calmly  awaited  the  ultimate  re- 
sults. As  he  saw  the  flood  tide  of  his  fortune  climb  the 
sands  to  his  feet  and  lift  above  all  dangerous  bars  and 
rocks  without  excitement,  or  wonder,  or  pulses  jubilant 
and  throbbing,  so  he  beheld  the  ebb  stripping  bare  the 
sands  and  gliding  out  to  the  sea  of  cut  and  embankment 
and  culvert  and  bridge,  without  terror,  without  com- 
plaint, and  looked  forward  with  cheerful  courage  and 
unyielding  faith  to  a  successful  and  fortunate  end. 

Even  the  approaching  steps  of  Death  faltered 
and  hesitated  before  the  firmness  of  that  courage  and 
the  serenity  of  that  faith.  I  shall  not  soon  forget  an 
occasion  when,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  he  made 
his  appearance  at  the  closing  of  a  litigation  in  which 
the  interests  of  the  University  were  largely  involved. 
He  came  pale,  haggard,  and  weak,  with  an  incessant 
and  painful  cough,  in  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain  that  lent 
damp  and  chill  to  the  air,  and,  declining  to  rest  upon  a 
lounge,  sat  severely  upright  through  the  work  of  the 
day,  marking  every  word,  but  repressing  every  emo- 
tion, and  giving  no  sign  of  the  thought  within.  Some 
one,  not  meaning  to  be  overheard,  spoke  of  him  in  a 
low  and  sympathetic  tone  as  a  dying  man.  I  thought 
the  words  did  not  reach  him.  The  firm  head  did  not 
stir ;  no  muscle  moved ;  the  eyes  looked  out  fearless  ; 


5 

no  added  pallor  spread  over  his  face.  But  some  hours 
after,  when  we  were  alone  together,  he  suddenly  looked 
up  and  said ;  "they  need  not  think  me  a  dying  man.  I 
shall  live  long  enough  yet  to  ward  off  all  danger  and 
earn  another  million  of  dollars  to  give  to  the  University 
at  home."  It  matters  little  to  the  wonder  of  his  cour- 
age that  the  firm  purpose  failed  and  death  interposed  a 
final  barrier,  for  out  of  the  aching  head  of  his  sure  and 
sagacious  plans  was  yet  to  spring,  as  the  Greek  goddess 
came,  more  than  the  million  that  Death  would  not  let 
him  earn. 

Such  was  the  brave  nature,  the  prophetic  intelli- 
gence, the  unfaltering  faith  that  built  itself  into  the 
foundations  of  your  University.  One  would  expect  to 
see  something  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Founder  in 
the  work  of  his  hands,  but  in  two  directions  his  far- 
reaching  courage  and  foresight  were  developed  to  even 
greater  degree  than  in  his  personal  and  business  enter- 
prises. Hold  up  to  the  light  and  study  that  calm  state- 
ment of  his  ;  "I  would  found  an  Institution  in  which 
any  person  may  find  instruction  in  any  study."  The 
words  are  simple  as  was  the  Quaker  way  of  his  inheri- 
tance, but  have  a  directness  peculiarly  his  own,  and  a 
deliberate  force  in  their  wide  and  confident  sweep. 

"Any  person:" — the  rich  perhaps,  but  the  youth 
of  humbler  homes  and  narrower  means  assuredly  and 
without  fail :  those  training  for  the  learned  professions 
if  they  should  choose,  but  at  all  events  the  workers  of 
the  world,  the  men  of  the  compass  and  the  sledge,  of 
the  engine  and  the  plough  :  not  merely  the  earnest  and 
ambitious  boy,  but  the  girl  as  well  in  whose  face  the 
doors  of  equal  education  had  long  been  scornfully  shut. 
I  am  little  likely  to  forget  how  those  doors  were  opened; 
and  there  entered  in  with  startling  promptness  what  is 
now  commonly  called  Co-Education.  When  everything 
was  new  and  order  had  scarcely  tamed  confusion  ;  when 


for  young  men  we  had  scarcely  room,  and  for  young- 
women  none,  there  came  one  day  a  quiet  girl,  modest, 
but — dreadfully  firm, — bringing  with  her  the  formal 
certificate  of  her  School  Commissioner  entitling  her  to 
a  State  scholarship,  and  asking  admission  to  the  student 
ranks.  We  were  face  to  face  with  the  grave  problem, 
suddenly,  and  unwarned.  I  was  asked  to  study  the  law 
and  see  if  the  application  could  be  rejected.  Study  the 
law  ! — There,  on  our  very  seal  was  graved  the  mandate 
of  the  Founder;  there,  in  the  statute  itself  was  the 
broad  authority  admitting  of  no  exception  ;  and  there 
stood  the  representative  of  her  sex  calmly  putting  our 
principles  on  trial.  I  was  obliged  to  say  that  the  right 
was  hers,  that  the  law  gave  it,  and  we  could  not  refuse 
without  some  scorn  of  the  Founder's  purpose,  and  the 
peril  of  a  statute  violated  and  annulled.  Yet  it  was 
sadly  true  that  we  had  no  place,  no  room  for  the  girl 
who  stood  the  champion  of  her  sex,  and  dreaded  thus 
and  at  once  to  settle  the  policy  of  the  Institution  :  and 
so  we  met  the  emergency  with  the  bland  persuasions  of 
one  to  whom  nobody  ever  said  "no  '  when  "yes"  was  a 
possible  answer ;  whom  I  am  glad  to  see  safe  returned 
from  his  German  gutturals  and  the  growlings  of  the 
sea  ;  the  first  President  of  the  University  ;  who  met  the 
lady  with  a  frank  admission  of  her  right  and  a  suave 
request  clothed  in  the  richest  morocco  binding  of  his 
tones,  that  she  would  wait  till  better  preparation  and 
fitter  welcome  could  be  given.  Of  course  he  conquered 
and  she  for  the  time  withdrew  ;  but  the  question  came 
again  and  again,  and  "would  not  down"  and  we  still 
pleaded  want  of  adequate  means,  until  one  day 
there  came  another  man,  tall  like  the  Founder  and  as 
firm  and  crisp  as  he,  who  quietly  laid  upon  our  table 
almost  a  quarter  of  a  million  of  dollars  saying;  "I  am 
tired  of  hearing  that  excuse:  have  you  any  other?" 
Reflection  failed  to  substitute  another,  and  so  the  doors 


7 

stood  open  wide, — the  doors  of  the  University,  swing- 
ing at  its  main  entrance  and  guarding    its    front,  not 
merely  those  of  some  timid  and  tentative  "Annex,"- 
and  "any  person"  had  liberty  to  pass  their  portals. 

"In  any  study." — There  lay  the  foundation  of 
what  the  Founder  meant  this  Institution  to  be  ;  a  Uni- 
versity in  the  broadest  and  fullest  sense  of  the  term.  Be 
sure  that  he  did  not  underrate  the  meaning  of  the  word, 
or  imagine  that  he  could  build  in  his  lifetime  what 
could  only  grow  with  the  sturdy  slowness  of  an  oak ; 
but  the  seed  that  he  planted  was  mother  of  an  oak,  not 
germ  of  a  sunflower.  The  magnitude  of  the  building 
may  not  exceed  the  scope  and  strength  of  the  founda- 
tions, but  he  laid  them  such  that  the  outlying  towers  of 
distant  centuries  will  find  a  solid  masonry  to  uphold 
their  walls.  His  own  native  tastes  were  toward  Agri- 
culture and  the  Mechanic  Arts.  He  loved  his  farm  and 
the  spread  of  its  wide  fields,  the  fragrance  of  the  clover 
and  the  gold  of  the  ripening  grain,  the  heavy  fleeces  of 
his  sheep  and  the  sedate  walk  of  his  cattle,  the  silence 
that  was  busy  with  growth  and  stealing  on  to  blossom 
and  fruit.  Equally  he  loved  all  useful  and  ingenious 
mechanism,  himself  a  natural  mechanic  and  full  of 
waiting  resources.  He  could  frame  a  house  when  a  boy 
or  build  a  mill  when  a  man  ;  tunnel  the  rocks  for  a 
flume  or  open  the  highway  for  a  wire ;  invent  a  relay 
or  plan  an  insulator.  A  college  of  Agriculture  and  the 
Mechanic  Arts  would  have  come  naturally  from  his 
hand,  and  he  gave  them  liberal  place  with  the  aid  of  one 
who  never  yet  has  found  the  bottom  of  purse  or  plan  ; 
but  the  Founder  meant  more  than  that ;  meant  a  Uni- 
versity that  should  gather  in  all  Art  and  Science,  all 
Letters  and  Learning,  the  whole  wide  range  of  human 
knowledge  and  attainment.  And  he  meant  it,  not  as  a 
dream  or  a  hope,  but  in  that  downright  earnest  which 
contemplated  years  of  steady  growth  and  a  full  develop- 


ment  to  be  reached  long  after  his  brain  and  hand  could 
plan  and  toil  no  more. 

To  move  along  the  lines  of  that  growth  with 
prudent  but  aggressive  steps  is  the  duty  you  have  in- 
herited from  the  purpose  of  the  Founder.  Slowly,  per- 
haps, but  steadily  and  symmetrically,  you  are  to  grow 
into  what  we  all  long  to  see,  and  what  some  older  in- 
stitutions of  the  land  are  vigorously  striving  to  become, 
a  true  American  University.  Not  some  servile  copy 
of  a  foreign  original  or  bald  effort  to  match  an  English 
or  a  German  pattern;  but  a  native  and  natural  growth, 
with  every  fiber  of  which  is  entwined  the  national 
spirit  and  the  national  nerve.  Prowling  about  our 
educational  thinking  there  is  sometimes  a  timid  rever- 
ence for  foreign  and  famous  models,  and  a  sentimental 
dread  of  other  guidance  than  theirs,  which  hampers 
free  and  resolute  action,  and  substitutes  a  hesitant  and 
distrustful  step  for  the  strong,  if  perhaps  unstately  or 
even  ragged,  march  of  our  Western  civilization.  Not 
undervaluing  the  lessons  of  successful  example,  not 
unwilling  to  learn  what  Time  has  surely  taught,  yet  one 
thing  we  should  always  remember,  that  a  University 
grows  and  is  not  made,  and  all  vigorous  growth,  out- 
side of  the  hot-house  invalids,  is  growth  in  the  open  air, 
such  as  befits  the  climate  and  the  soil,  and  is  product  of 
the  native  air  and  earth.  The  stunted  pine  of  Green- 
land lifts  to  the  mast  of  a  man-of-war  in  our  western 
groves,  and  the  sweetest  grape  of  southern  France  may 
prove  tart  and  bitter  on  our  colder  slopes.  The  end  of 
education  is  the  same  for  all;  the  goal  to  be  reached  is 
one  and  unchangeable;  but  the  American  scholar  must 
travel  his  own  path,  however  dim  the  trail  or  few  the 
blazed  trees  on  his  road,  and  not  cry  or  wait  for  the 
lighted  highways  smoothed  by  the  wheels  of  a  thous- 
and years.  The  true  measure  of  a  University  is  not 
the  wealth  of  its  endowment,  the  noise  of  its  doctrines, 


or  the  moss  on  its  venerable  shingles,  but  the  sort  of 
men  it  makes,  and  the  complete  and  crowning  Ameri- 
can University  will  be  that  which  turns  out  the  noblest 
type  of  American  man: — not  merely  venered  with  a 
thin  surface  of  Science,  not  simply  polished  with  a  film 
of  Classical  oil,  but  hard-wood  and  solid,  all  the  way 
through,  into  whatever  shape  by  choice  or  emergency 
it  may  in  the  end  be  carved. 

It  is  surely  your  duty  and  is  likely  to  be  your 
fate  to  lead  the  advance  in  securing  to  education  a 
greater  breadth  of  opportunity,  a  wider  freedom  of  at- 
tainment, and  an  impartial  expansion  of  its  range  and 
usefulness;  to  be  imitated  at  a  respectful  distance;  and 
then  perhaps  ignored  by  some  whose  patrician  blood 
has  been  warmed  into  courage  by  your  success.  You 
need  not  grieve.  The  experience  is  not  uncommon. 
In  many  ways,  and  on  many  lines  of  action  your  Foun- 
der felt  the  cold  scorn  of  those  who  fancied  them- 
selves his  superiors,  and  the  chilling  doubt  of  others  who 
thought  him  unpractical  and  visionary;  but  he  never 
suffered  either  scorn  or  doubt  to  turn  him  from  duty 
or  impede  his  progress;  and  lived  long  enough  at  least 
to  demonstrate  the  power  of  an  intelligent  faith  back- 
ed by  the  courage  of  conviction. 

Observe,  too,  how  these  qualities  were  developed 
in  the  agencies  he  employed.  The  remark  has  been 
often  made  that  it  was  itself  a  marvellous  display  of 
courage  and  faith  which  in  the  heat  of  the  civil  war, 
when  the  life  of  the  nation  was  at  stake,  could  inspire 
its  chosen  representatives  to  devote  to  the  use  of  the 
States  for  the  purposes  of  education  a  liberal  share  of 
the  public  domain.  To  our  own  State  was  allotted  the 
right  to  nearly  one  million  of  acres  representing  at  the 
moment  a  market  value  of  less  than  one  million  of  dol- 
lars, and  that  steadily  decreasing  with  relentless  cer- 
tainty and  speed.  In  the  judgement  of  the  Founder  an 


10 

immediate  sale  was  a  terrible  waste,  and  the  location 
of  the  scrip  and  its  sturdy  holding  full  of  tempting  pos- 
sibilities. He  looked  forward  as  was  his  way.  He 
saw  the  fever  of  war  making  room  for  the  industry  of 
peace;  the  tide  of  immigration  penetrating  anew  the  sol- 
itudes of  the  prairie  and  the  forest;  the  axe  gleaming  at 
the  base  of  the  pines  and  the  rivers  running  logs  instead 
of  billows,  and  wealth  awaiting  him  who  himself  could 
dare  to  wait.  Full  of  trust  in  the  future  he  foresaw,  he 
made  with  the  State  that  courageous  and  almost  dra- 
matic contract  by  which  he  bound  himself  to  purchase 
the  entire  right  of  the  commonwealth,  to  select  and  lo- 
cate the  lands  it  represented,  to  pay  the  taxes,  guard 
against  trespasses,  defend  from  fires,  and  in  the  end  sell 
when  values  had  strengthened,  and  then  pay  into  the 
coffers  of  the  State  for  the  use  of  the  University  the 
entire  net  proceeds  of  the  enterprise.  For  himself  he 
reserved — the  return  of  his  own  money  with  the  interest 
upon  it.  Nothing  for  his  toil,  nothing  for  his  risk,  noth- 
ing for  his  burden,  nothing  for  his  marvellous  energy 
and  thrift !  This  man,  who  at  the  outset  could  give 
twenty-  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  precious  privilege 
of  giving  away  half  a  million  more,  puts  himself  under 
bonds  to  the  State  to  work  for  the  State  and  ask  no 
compensation  !  It  was  not  wonderful  that  the  load 
grew  heavy  as  the  slow  years  dragged  on  with  no  sign 
of  reward;  no  wonder  that  when  a  moderate,  but  as  the 
times  were,  just  and  fair  price  was  offered  for  a  portion 
of  the  land,  those  of  us  who  were  nearest  to  him  begged 
his  acceptance  of  the  offer  as  a  measure  of  prudence  and 
safety;  but  it  was  wonderful  how  the  iron  grain  of  his 
courage  and  faith  resisted  far  into  the  night  the  plead- 
ing and  anxious  fears  of  those  whom  he  loved  and  trus- 
ted, grimly  smiling  at  our  weak  hearts  and  frightened 
nerves,  and  insisting  that  he  could  carry  the  burden 
to  the  end. 


1 1 

I  have  sketched  one  side  of  our  Founder's  char- 
acter. If  I  left  it  here  you  would  see  himkpperfectly, 
as  many  saw  him  in  his  life;  a  tall, strong  man  with  a  grave 
stern  face,  reticent, and  almost  cold  in  his  manner,  look- 
ing at  you  with  eyes  of  deliberate  blue,  steady  beneath 
a  brow  unfurrowed  and  framed  in  by  the  gathering 
gray  of  hair  as  determined  as  his  will.  To  a  stranger, 
sometimes  he  seemed  hard  and  repellant,  likely  to  be 
proud,  or  to  deal  out  rebuke  with  savage  force.  That 
was  not  in  the  least  the  man.  No  kinder  heart  than  his 
ever  beat,  and  it  made  him  tender  to  distress  and  gen- 
erous beyond  measure:  not  merely  on  a  large  scale  and 
in  the  public  eye,  but  silently  and  in  the  shadow  of  his 
daily  and  private  life.  To  relieve  suffering,  to  lighten 
the  burdens  of  poverty,  to  open  the  way  to  despairing 
effort,  to  instinctively  find  the  need  that  pride  con- 
cealed, to  fill  his  days  full  of  kindness  and  charity,  was 
as  natural  to  him  as  for  the  flowers  to  bloom  or  the 
corn  to  ripen.  There  are  those  now  living,  moving  in 
the  prime  of  life  to  assured  success,  to  whose  hopeless 
youth  he  opened  the  doors  of  hope,  and  paved  and 
smoothed  the  road  from  the  fortune  he  had  gained. 
There  are  those  now  living,  in  the  afternoon  of  life  and 
awaiting  the  sunset,  who  owe  to  his  tireless  bounty  the 
peace  and  comfort  of  their  days.  There  are  those  who 
have  gone  before  us  whose  last  hours  were  cheered  by 
his  care,  and  who  sleep,  some  within  cannon  range  of 
the  Potomac  forts,  and  some  on  the  hillside  within  the 
shadow  ol  his  new  dwelling  which  shelters  now  surviv- 
ing wife  and  children,  but  never  covered  as  a  home  his 
own  tired  head.  While  writing  these  words  an  incident, 
unknown  to  me  before,  has  been  communicated  by  one 
whom  many  in  this  assemblage  will  remember  with  an 
esteem  and  regard  as  lasting  as  my  own — the  Reverend 
Doctor  Torrey,  who  in  the  early  days  of  the  University 
was  resident  here  as  Pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian 


V 


12 

Church.  He  had  been  preaching-  to  his  congregation, 
among  whom  the  Founder  was  an  attentive  listener, 
upon  the  duty  of  aiding  young  men  of  slender  means 
who  desired  to  enter  the  Ministry  to  secure  the  neces- 
sary and  adequate  education,  and  quoted  the  remark 
which  happened  to  linger  in  his  memory  that  "these 
were  Poverty's  jewels,  taken  in  the  rough  and  polished 
for  the  crown  ot  Christ."  At  the  close  of  the  sermon 
a  collection  was  had  for  the  benefit  of  the  Board  of 
Education  of  the  Church  and  among  the  gifts  of  money 
large  and  small  was  found  a  little  card  upon  which  and 
over  his  initials  was  pencilled  in  the  Founder's  hand  ; 
"Select  for  me  one  of  Poverty's  jewels  that  it  may  be 
wrought  out — the  diamond  for  the  crown  of  Christ." 
When,  after  the  selection  was  made,  he  was  told  the 
name  of  his  jewel  and  the  expense  to  be  borne  for  seven 
years  while  its  purity  and  light  were  being  slowly 
developed,  he  simply  said  in  his  brief,  terse  way, 
"Right;  I  agree  to  that;"  and  silently  fulfilled  the 
promise  till  the  need  of  it  was  ended.  For  any  young- 
man  struggling  to  obtain  an  education  his  heart  beat 
warmly  and  his  help  was  never  withheld. 

No  man  was  firmer  in  his  friendships.  His 
confidence  once  given  was  never  withdrawn  until 
hopelessly  betrayed.  Long  after  selfishness  and  greed 
had  grown  visible  to  other  eyes  they  were  unseen  by 
him  or  softened  by  charitable  interpretation,  and  he 
resented  a  suspicion  of  his  friends  as  a  personal  injury 
to  himself.  If  sometimes  this  firm  and  faithful  trust 
took  on  the  proportions  of  a  fault,  it  was  but  a  virtue 
carried  to  excess,  reminding  one  of  that  other  brave  and 
self-reliant  nature  which  led  our  armies  to  victory,  and 
never  could  be  made  to  see  a  vice  or  error  in  a  friend. 

But  among  the  Founder's  traits,  what  to  me  was 
the  strangest  of  all  in  so  strong  and  earnest  a  nature, 
was  his  serene  patience  and  forgiving  temper  under 


13 

persistent  and  bitter  falsehood,  destructive  and  sting- 
ing slander,  and  a  jealousy  reckless  of  the  truth.  It 
seems  almost  impossible  at  this  day  and  in  the  light  of 
events  that  labors  so  unselfish  and  a  life  so  stainless 
could  have  received  for  reward  a  storm  of  obloquy  and 
abuse.  I  recall  very  clearly  the  occasion.  It  came 
with  the  solemnity  of  a  formal  accusation,  upon  the  floor 
of  the  Legislature,  from  the  lips  of  one  of  its  members, 
and  charged  upon  Ezra  Cornell  that  his  land  enterprise 
was  a  gigantic  fraud  upon  the  State,  planned  and  in- 
tended to  win  for  him  an  enormous  fortune  and  to  plun- 
der the  Institution  he  had  founded.  Let  us  be  just. 
He  who  made  the  charge  doubtless  believed  its  truth, 
and  deemed  that  he  was  but  doing  his  sworn  duty.  Yet 
at  the  time  all  of  us  flamed  into  anger  and  indignation. 
We  gathered  about  the  Founder  with  hot  cheeks  and 
eyes  in  a  blaze  and  words  stinging  with  rage  and 
exasperation.  His  was  the  only  quiet  voice  of  all.  1 
heard  him  say  that  what  we  so  bitterly  resented  and 
roundly  execrated  was  not  at  all  an  evil  fortune  but 
rather  the  reverse;  and  then  he  calmly  explained,  that 
the  secret  suspicion  of  a  wrong  and  wicked  purpose 
had  long  been  mining  beneath  the  surface  and  was 
difficult  to  discover  and  refute,  but  when  it  came  open- 
ly to  the  light  and  found  a  man  bold  enough  to  declare 
it  and  be  its  champion  the  danger  was  ended,  for  it 
funished  an  opportunity,  by  a  formal  investigation 
which  he  should  at  once  demand,  to  turn  the  light  on 
every  step  of  his  progress  and  convince  the  most  doubt- 
ful of  the  simple  truth.  And  this  he  said  without  an- 
ger or  excitement,  patiently  confronting  the  wrong  till 
the  slander  was  laid  in  its  grave.  We  who  know  that 
his  fortune  was  lessened  and  perilled  by  the  demands 
of  the  burden  he  assumed  have  little  need  at  this  day 
of  speaking  in  his  defence;  and  yet  before  my  own  lips 
are  sealed  and  I  follow  him  into  the  dark  which  1  hope 


14 

but  borders  the  light,  I  desire  to  say  one  thing  with 
all  the  force  and  weight  which  it  is  possible  for  me  to 
command.  Day  by  day  and  almost  hour  by  hour  I  be- 
came familiar  with  all  that  he  planned  and  all  that  he 
did  in  the  management  of  his  self-imposed  trust.  .None 
of  his  accounts  or  of  his  correspondence  with  his  chos- 
en agents  were  withheld  from  my  scrutiny,  and  if  ever 
man  had  a  full  and  complete  opportunity  to  find  and 
know  the  uttermost  truth,  that  opportunity  was  mine: 
and  I  am  glad  to  declare  that  never,  in  word  or  deed, 
in  act  or  intention,  did  I  discover  the  least  faint  trace 
of  a  selfish  purpose,  or  the  shadow  of  a  personal  benefit 
sought  or  gained.  Thoroughly  and  absolutely  pure 
and  without  alloy  was  the  true  gold  of  his  nature  and 

his  life.  . 

But  a  time  came  when  the  Founder's  work  was 

ended.  How  he  bore  up  against  the  waste  of  disease  I 
have  already  said.  I  saw  him  climb  the  narrow  stair- 
ways in  the  business  quarter  of  the  Metropolis,  pausing 
many  times  from  exhaustion,  but  with  never  a  murmur 
or  complaint.  He  who  in  his  prime  could  walk  forty 
miles  a  day  and  enjoy  the  effort  found  himself  scarcely 
able  to  endure  an  hour's  fatigue.  There  came  at  last 
the  hardest  trial  of  all,  to  unloose  his  hold  upon  the 
helm  and  commit  the  wheel  to  other  hands.  That  he 
did  it  sadly,  reluctantly,  and  with  pain  is  most  true, 
but  he  did  it  patiently  and  with  unhesitating  trust  in 
his  children  and  his  friends.  I  recollect  the  shiver  and 
the  chill  with  which  I  became  conscious  of  that  first  sur- 
render. With  one  of  his  sons  we  were  seeking  safety 
from  a  menacing  danger,  and  searching  anxiously  for 
a  rift  in  the  cloud  or  a  light  in  the  dense  darkness,  and 
he,  folding  his  hands  upon  the  table  and  laying  his  head 
upon  them  said  only- -"You  must  do  the  best  that  you 
can :  I  am  not  well !" — The  words  were  simple,  but 
how  much  they  cost  him  we  shall  never  know.  From 


15 

that  time  on,  he  grew  steadily  weaker,  yet  his  patience 
and  placid  resignation  continued  to  the  end.  It  was 
my  privilege  with  the  aid  of  the  Trustees,  who  gener- 
ously lent  their  own  means  to  the  emergency  until  the 
land  securities  could  come  into  effective  use,  and  with 
the  first  Treasurer  of  the  University  who  yet  remains 
among  us,  with  declining  years  as  fruitful  as  they  have 
been  cheerful,  to  place  in  the  Founder's  hands  as  he  sat 
in  his  sick  room,  every  bond  he  had  given  the  State, 
every  obligation  it  held  against  him,  and  assure  him 
that  all  his  promises  were  fully  and  exactly  fulfilled. 
He  went  to  his  death  with  his  benevolent  and  marvell- 
ous Trust  accomplished  and  complete. 

And  now,  at  last,  you  have  placed  his  mortal  re- 
mains where  I  know  that  he  desired  to  sleep;  on  these 
hills  where  his  youthful  resolves  were  framed;  on  the 
fields  of  the  farm  that  he  loved  as  men  love  the  air  and 
leaves  of  home;  in  the  midst  of  the  University  to  which 
he  literally  gave  his  life.  Generations  of  busy  feet  and 
throbbing  hearts  will  flow  like  recurrent  tides  about 
his  resting  place,  and  changes  most  broad  and  unfor- 
seen  make  all  things  but  one  grow  unfamiliar.  That 
one  all  change  will  reverence.  Throughout  the  years 
his  slumber  shall  have  respect.  Above  his  grave  shall 
remain  the  marble,  not  more  pure  and  not  more  firm 
than  the  purpose  of  his  life,  and  from  the  stained  win- 
dows through  which  the  glory  of  the  sunlight  filters  shall 
gravely  look  down  the  elder  builders  who  pointed  him 
the  way;  the  form  of  one  who  worked  and  gave  at  his 
side;  and  the  pure  face  of  the  maiden,  who  wove  a 
thread  of  romance  in  the  sterner  work  of  father  and  of 
friend,  and  left  us  at  least  her  love  in  the  chimes  she 
gave. 

And  there  I  must  leave  him  ;  and  here  I  must 
leave  you  to  return  to  duties  which  are  impatient  of  in- 
terruption. As  I  go  permit  me  to  add  one  final  word. 


i6 

I  have  thought  that  the  duty  which  I  owed  to  this 
occasion  was  not  at  all  an  effort  of  logic  or  of  learning, 
if  such  were  within  my  power;  not  even  a  defense  of 
the  New  Education  or  a  study  of  your  relations  to  it, 
however  I  might  love  to  break  a  lance  in  the  fray ;  but 
an  effort  to  paint  a  picture  of  the  Founder  as  I  knew 
him  in  his  life,  in  outlines  accurate  and  true,  and  in 
colors  as  vivid  as  I  could  find  surviving  among  the  dull 
browns  of  daily  toil;  in  order  that  you  who  knew  him 
not,  who  have  come  later  upon  the  scene,  may  inter- 
weave among  your  younger  labors  and  fresher  ambi- 
tions the  face  and  step  of  the  grave  but  kindly  man 
who  made  your  places  and  your  purposes  possible  ;  and 
in  the  hope  that  the  story  of  his  life  may  be  handed 
down  from  one  to  another  and  never  for  a  dav  be  for- 
gotten. I  trust  that  through  all  vicissitudes  and 
changes,  however  the  New  may  supersede  the  Old,  and 
Time  and  Death  blur  or  efface  the  Past,  there  may  yet 
remain,  as  the  center  of  every  aim  and  ambition,  as  the 
stimulus  to  every  useful  effort,  as  the  atmosphere  of  the 
University,  the  memory  of  Ezra  Cornell. 


OF  W.    G.   SMITH  &  CO. ,    1887. 


6AYLORD 

BROS.,  INC. 

Manufacturers 
Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Stockton,  Calif. 


M253174 


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